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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27942461">Hold onto softly</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rakshasha/pseuds/Rakshasha'>Rakshasha</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sensory Overload, you could call this a sickfic of sorts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:48:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,416</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27942461</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rakshasha/pseuds/Rakshasha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Distantly, Stiles wonders how much time has passed already. Surely no more than a few hours, but in complete darkness it’s hard to tell. He's contemplating reaching out for the phone he left on the bedside table when the softest swish of sound catches his attention. It's low and delicate enough not to aggravate his senses in any way and soon after the mattress behind his back dips slightly with a new weight settling under the covers. </p><p>  <em>Thank fuck…</em></p><p>Stiles exhales softly, glad that the soft rustling of sheets doesn't bother him, and when finally a second body presses all the way to his back, he feels a little bit like crying. </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nogitsune/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>91</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hold onto softly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I typed this one out in a few hours all through online classes to keep myself sane and decided to just post it, unedited, unbetad, you know how that goes. I've been having a rough few weeks and December is not looking too brightly as of right now, so I needed a little bit of comfort. Hope y'all will enjoy this little thing ❤</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The room is completely dark. No sound interrupting the silence but for Stiles' own breath, muffled against his pillows. Laying snuggled up in a mountain of covers and blankets, he tries not to think and just– drift, mindlessly. It's not exactly easy, not with his usually fast-paced brain and hyperactive thoughts, but his fried senses don't really let him focus on anything either. It's like everything is dialed up to eleven, pushing at him from every direction without a moment of respite. Even the comfort of his bed doesn't make it in any way better – just slightly more bearable. </p><p>The day has been going awful so far. It has started with a weird headache – as if someone was stabbing a knife right into his brain through his left eye socket. At the same time, his mind just kept getting foggier and foggier as hours passed, unfamiliar exhaustion weighing down his every move. When his ears began to get aggravated by every little sound and his eyes started aching with an insistent pressure, Stiles finally figured out he won't be able to do anything. And he tried, just the normal things he'd do to relax if he was feeling sick or exhausted – read, watch funny videos, play some games. But the simple act of just <em> looking </em> seemed to trigger whatever made him feel so awful. </p><p>And so Stiles switched off every source of light in his room, pulled down the blinds – even though it was already getting dark outside – locked his room tight and crawled into bed to cut off the world as best as he could. And that's how he got here. </p><p>Now, snuggling a bunch of pillows into his chest, Stiles tries to just… exist. Find the little bit of comfort he can in the warm space of his bed and not think himself into circles as his mind scatters, sluggish with the persistent fog. The only thing he can be thankful for is the fact his headache isn't too bad – sure it feels like his brain is getting stabbed, but that's just it. The pain isn't consistent, it's sharp and unpleasant, but at least only occasional. He can't imagine getting a migraine-type headache on top of whatever sensory overload he's experiencing. Not that he knows how a migraine feels, but he's heard stories – it definitely seemed far worse, so Stiles just takes what he can and continues to lay down in his bed in complete darkness doing absolutely nothing and hoping it will eventually pass. </p><p>He could wish for is something to occupy himself with – or the little bit of his brain that still seems to lack some kind of engagement while every other part of Stiles can't process or withstand basically anything. But his mind is too fogged up and he's too exhausted to come up with something, especially in his whole current predicament. A single thought of jerking off passed through his mind, but it didn't feel worth the effort. And he'd be all gross after, without the energy to get out of bed and clean up, so he threw that idea out quickly. </p><p>Distantly, Stiles wonders how much time has passed already. Surely no more than a few hours, but in complete darkness, it’s hard to tell. And although he quite despised the way days have been getting so short, it turned out to be a blessing in disguise just now. Maybe, hopefully, he would get better before midnight and could take a few hours to feel like a human before going back to bed. He's contemplating reaching out for the phone he left on the bedside table when the softest swish of sound catches his attention. </p><p>It's low and delicate enough not to aggravate his senses in any way and soon after the mattress behind his back dips slightly with a new weight settling under the covers. </p><p>
  <em> Thank fuck… </em>
</p><p>Stiles exhales softly, glad that the soft rustling of sheets doesn't bother him, and when finally a second body presses all the way to his back, he feels a little bit like crying. </p><p>Void's cool skin provides a positively heavenly contrast to the warmth of his blanket-cocoon and the silky sleeping pants slide easily enough against Stiles' bare legs. And as much as he loves the fact Void mostly prefers shedding all of his clothing, he's thankful the demon decided to forgo it this time – Stiles definitely doesn't feel up to anything. Now, stripped down to just his boxers, he can fully appreciate the absolutely calming quality Void's presence brings without worrying about things escalating, not when the demon embraces him softly and cuddles him up so perfectly Stiles doesn't want to move even an inch. </p><p>A long, pitiful whine escapes from deep within Stiles' chest, as if it was trapped there since the very beginning of the day, but it comes out so thin it's barely audible. Void hears him, of course, nuzzling at the back of Stiles' neck and pulling him closer with a strong arm around his waist. Warm amusement seeps into Stiles then, the demon's chuckle so low it's more vibration than sound. And it feels surprisingly lovely against Stiles' back. </p><p>"Where were you the whole day…" Stiles grumbles under his nose, mumbling into the pillows in such a way he's almost surprised Void can even understand him. </p><p>"Just a sign away, little fox," the demon chides lightly, lips pressed just under Stiles' neck, between his shoulder blades, and voice barely above a soothing, whisper-like rumble. </p><p>The rush of affection and appreciation that goes through Stiles is hard to describe, stinging delicately under his eyelids. Even though he can hear that slight reprimand in Void's words, knows the demon's at least a little upset Stiles didn't inform him earlier of how badly his day is going, it pales against the fact of how considerate Void is being, so uncharacteristically soft and gentle. </p><p>But Stiles is still not feeling too well and very much petulant, so he grumbles some more intelligible mumbles of discontent until Void's low, low, rumbling chuckle vibrates against his skin again. The sensation was always pleasant, but now he can't quite get enough of it. </p><p>Void brushes a kiss where his mouth rests, fingers spreading over Stiles' belly as his hot breath slips down Stiles' spine.</p><p>"Hush, darling, I'm here now."</p><p>Stiles can't quite help the whine that escapes him then. And he doesn't exactly need to be getting emotional on top of everything. </p><p>"Can you, uh," fumbling for words, Stiles tries to press back more into Void, "do it again?"</p><p>A low hum warms the skin on his back and that feels nice too, then Void does that low, low growl again, more sensation than sound, and Stiles exhales a long, shuddering breath. He doesn't even mind that smugly amused smile pressed to his shoulder. </p><p>"This?"</p><p>"Mhmm…"</p><p>Stiles hums his assent, relaxing into Void's arms as all the tension that still corded his muscles slowly seeps away. A stray thought comes to his mind, something about a cat's purring helping in elevating pain, but it flits away as the demon's fingers stroke soothingly at his sides. <em>God</em>, does it feel good. And even though he has no strength or will to move, Stiles gathers himself and slowly shifts, positively melting when Void just softly helps him turn around with minimal effort. </p><p>As soon as he can, Stiles fits himself right under Void's chin, forehead resting in the hollow of Void's throat, right between the collarbones, and his own arm circles the demon's waist to snuggle up to Void as tightly as possible. And Stiles goes completely pliant against Void, their legs tangled, holding onto each other and Void's cheek nuzzling at his hair. </p><p>The demon's skin already got a bit warmer from their proximity, but it's still cool enough it brings immediate relief to Stiles' fogged up head. And when Void does that purr-like growl, the sensation seems to seep right into Stiles' body, uncoiling something tight and aching from his chest. </p><p>Exhaling a relieved breath, Stiles shivers just a little at the brush of a kiss on his temple. </p><p>"Rest, little fox, I'm not going anywhere. It will pass."</p><p>The words are barely audible, hot breath stirring the hair on Stiles' head, and he has to blink away the stinging blurriness from under his eyelids. Instead of trying to answer, Stiles just tightens his grip and snuggles up closer. </p><p>He doesn't quite mind laying in the dark for a little while longer. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Dunno about y'all, but I could definitely use a demon boyfriend to comfort and cuddle me up, y'know, lmao. Hope you enjoyed this thing, let me know! Kudos and comments help to get me through tough times and fuel my inspiration, but also if this little fic just provided you with some comfort as it did for me, then I am a happy writer. </p><p>As always, you can find me on tumblr at raksh-writes - <a href="https://raksh-writes.tumblr.com/">link</a> here - lots of rambling, snippets and behind-the-scene over there! All the love ❤</p></blockquote></div></div>
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